


Adequately Supportive Workplace Environments

by OnlySlightlyObsessed1



Series: Occupational Hazards [2]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Alternate Universe, Established Relationship, Jim's POV, M/M, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-13 20:39:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17494973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnlySlightlyObsessed1/pseuds/OnlySlightlyObsessed1
Summary: It is the responsibility of the Captain to create, maintain, and facilitate an environment that supports the personal and professional needs of a diverse crew.OrJim liked to think he was pretty good at his job.





	Adequately Supportive Workplace Environments

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't really sure what to do with the bits and pieces of this universe because they didn't want to coalesce. I've decided to post what I have as separate shorter stories. 
> 
> There's a lot of dialogue and Jim being unsure of himself in this story, I agonized over making it in character, but I'm still not really thrilled with it. This and future stories are rather more AU than Confined Spaces. I think it makes sense even with how little I say about it, but if it's confusing to anyone I'll happily explain what I was imagining.

In the week after their unplanned encounter with McCoy’s team Spock was just as efficient and competent as he’d always been, just as reserved and withdrawn as they’d all gotten used to, and Jim couldn’t help but notice it made a stark contrast to how unashamedly content he’d seemed for those two days in the cave.

Spock didn’t really smile. He didn’t really frown. He certainly didn’t touch anyone. It was all perfectly normal, but Jim couldn’t help feeling like maybe he should have been worried about him from the start. The bridge was quiet, and Jim supposed he could be sitting doing nothing anywhere on the small ship. Sulu wasn’t in the navigator’s chair, the ship was on autopilot, Chekov and Spock were minding the scanners, charting. They did a lot of charting. Uhura came in for fifteen minutes every hour to check her communications broadcasts and recordings. There wasn’t really anything for Jim to do, but he liked being on the bridge, watching the stars

As pretty as the view was, he couldn’t appreciate it for how distracted he was worrying about Spock. He didn’t know many other Vulcans, and none personally. They were all quite reserved, as Spock was, but he couldn’t know about their personal lives. Were they the same? Were they like Spock was with their friends? What about with their partners?

Then there was the fact that Spock was half human. He certainly acted perfectly Vulcan on the ship, but he had been so affectionate and human with McCoy it made Jim feel like he had failed somehow. Maybe Spock didn’t really like him and the crew very much, or they weren’t actually as close friends as Jim had thought they were.

How much of what McCoy had said had been a joke? He got up out of his chair, nodding at Spock and Chekov as they looked up at him, and went to the mess hall.

 

“You could just ask him,” Uhura said patiently. “You’re closer to him than any of the rest of us, and that’s saying something.”

It was. The Enterprise was a small ship. Seven crew was a full complement, though they could comfortably fit up to ten in their single room barracks. Three years onboard tended to erode boundaries and make public any secrets. But not Spock’s.

“You’re probably right,” he said.

 

Jim always found it laughable that the _Enterprise_ had a ready room. As if there was classified information that he could keep from his six other crewmembers, all essential to running the ship. It did make a good private place to talk, and they had an unspoken rule that you didn’t interrupt or intrude on anyone’s time there.

“Spock, do I make you uncomfortable?” he asked. Spock had looked confused when Jim had ushered him into the room, they were technically on shift, but on small ships you weren’t ever really off shift, and Jim found the crew worked better when people had more freedom to complete assigned activities when they needed to be done not when they happened to be on duty. Jim’s question didn’t seem to clear anything up for him.

“No, you do not. Why do you ask?”

“When we were in the cave, Doctor McCoy said,” he would have continued but Spock nodded and hummed his understanding so Jim left it at that.

Spock sat down. “I had wondered when you would choose to discuss it, I apologize if his comment has caused you distress. I do in fact count you and the rest of the crew among my friends.”

Jim sighed, tried to think of a better way to phrase his next question, and gave up.

“Why did you never mention him?”

“You are human, and you perceive such things to be far simpler and easier than they tend to be in my experience,” Spock said. Jim wasn’t mistaking anything then, despite his assertion, Spock looked wildly uncomfortable. “How would you have preferred I share that information?”

“I don’t know, it’s not that. You just seemed, you were happy to see him, and that makes sense, he’s your husband, obviously he’s important to you. But if we’re friends, and we see each other everyday, was there really never a chance to mention it? Is it something about us that makes you feel like you can’t?”

“Is this truly an appropriate subject to discuss while on duty?” Spock asked.

“Is there something that urgently needs your attention Mister Spock?” Jim asked in reply, and Spock’s blank expression was enough acknowledgement that he understood Jim’s question to be rhetorical. “Think of it this way. As your Captain, I’m concerned that there’s something about the dynamics of the crew that’s failed to provide you with the basic social support one expects from their fellow officers. As your friend I feel like I must be doing something wrong.”

“You have not done anything wrong,” Spock said softly, and maybe he was still confused, or Jim might have upset him, which hadn’t been his intention. He hadn’t meant to get so upset himself, he honestly hadn’t minded that much at the time. Spock was considerably more reserved than most humans and Jim didn’t like to think he was an insecure kind of person, but he couldn’t stop turning it over in his head. How had they been friends for years without Jim knowing Spock was married?

Spock said, “It is no fault or lacking of yours that I behave differently in his company, it is something to do with him,” and he didn’t explain further.

Jim waited, and then said, “Would you like to expand on that at all, Spock?”

Spock looked away and very nearly appeared to sigh.

“I do not know how. He is as he is, which is not a particularly helpful description for you because you do not know him. I will try to be clearer.” Spock took another breath. “I have always been, as most Vulcans are, a private and quiet person. However, among Vulcans this behavior is not as isolating as it is among humans. Vulcans are more open and affectionate in our own ways than humans tend to perceive. However, I could never integrate myself among my Vulcan peers. Illogical as it is, many resent my human heritage.”

This was more than Jim had been expecting, more than he had hoped for, if he was being honest. He wondered if this had been all it took, if he’d pushed just a little bit further two years ago, would Spock have opened up to him then?

“Among humans and Vulcans then, I have always been as you perceive me. It has always been difficult, though not impossible, to form and maintain social connection. I find Starfleet facilitates this process. It is and always has been, different with Doctor McCoy.”

Jim couldn’t quite put aside the strangeness of hearing Spock use the man’s formal title.

“Conversation of any form is easy with him in a way it is not with others. He finds me easy to read, if not always to understand. I could not tell you, and neither could he, how he manages it. We frequently discuss academic matters, science, philosophy, politics, our careers, the inevitable clash between our cultures and belief systems. With him lively debate, small talk, affection, silence, and even genuine arguments are natural and come easily. I do not know what makes him special, only that he is.” Spock said, and sat silently, not looking at Jim.

Astounded, Jim said, “That sounds like love.”

Spock inclined his head. “He would describe it as such. What I mean to convey is that it is my own social failings that have prevented the progression and sharing of information that you view to be normal or expected. People tend to find it difficult to engage with me socially. I know this, he knows this as well, but he fails to understand why others cannot read me as he does. He does not have my difficulty interacting with people generally, he is a powerful social presence, whether people perceive him positively or negatively. For your part, you are familiar with me as I typically am, and though I will not call the most recent circumstances typical, you have seen a version of my interaction with him. For the discrepancy, you blame either a perceived lack of social commitment to you and the rest of the crew, or some unknown failing on your part to inspire openness in me. I do not know how to remedy this tendency in myself to inspire discomfort in others.”

“You don’t make us uncomfortable, and I don’t think it’s difficult to engage with you, socially or otherwise,” Jim had to put in. It really wasn’t. He certainly found Spock difficult to read most of the time, but it wasn’t impossible, and once he’d gotten a feel for how Spock operated, he’d thought they’d made a good team.

“I’m only concerned that you’re unhappy here,” he said.

Spock seemed to regain some kind of confidence because he raised an eyebrow at Jim and said, “As a Vulcan, I do not experience such emotions.”

Jim gave him a look.

“I must also remind you that circumstances in the cave can hardly be taken as representative of my marital life normally,” Spock said, inclining his head and giving a shadow of a smile in acknowledgement.

“For the most part, people perceive our interactions as disagreeable and confusing. Indeed, on more than occasion it has been remarked that we appear to dislike each other, though I maintain their perceptions to be fundamentally flawed. He holds a place of great importance in my life. I fail to see why we should be in constant agreement when our manner of interaction suits us perfectly well. In the cave however, it had been a full two years since we had seen each other in person, such separation . . .” he paused, as if looking for the words, “Our respective careers with Starfleet necessitate a degree of separation I find distasteful. When the opportunity presents itself that we should be in each other’s company I fail to see the logic in downplaying my appreciation for his presence.”

Jim tried not to smile too obviously. It was there, under some layers, but the side of Spock that had shown itself in the cave threatened to appear again when he talked about McCoy. He missed him, quite clearly, and Jim was reassured that Spock seemed to want to talk about it, now that Jim had given him explicit permission.

“Why not apply for a joint assignment?” he asked.

“It is something I have considered. However, for the moment our careers are divergent. Medical Transports have little need for non-medical personnel, and medical personnel are not regularly assigned to Research and Exploration teams. We are both quite pleased with our current postings.”

Jim wished they had a regularly assigned medical staff. Even one extra crew member would be an improvement over the current system. Generally, whoever was least injured tried to decipher the instructions from the mediscanner. Jim hadn’t ever lost any regularly assigned crew, though several security officers had been killed or injured while on temporary assignment. They seemed to attract danger like magnets.

“Maybe in the future then,” Jim said, and Spock nodded.

“I would welcome your advice on ways I might indicate that I appreciate and reciprocate your friendship, and that of the rest of the crew,” Spock said.

“You don’t have to,” Jim began, and hastily rephrased his remark at Spock’s eyebrow. “No one wants you to change, Spock, but if there are things you want to share with us, personal things, then I promise you we’d welcome it. It makes us illogical humans feel important.”

Spock seemed to take a moment of contemplation, “Very well,” he said, and Jim felt like he’d achieved something ground breaking.

 

\-- 

 

“Doctor McCoy has informed me that I missed an opportunity to engage in more personal sharing that would strengthen our friendship,” Spock said during their chess game the next evening.

Jim blinked at him.

“In an attempt to rectify that I will inform you now that I have two older siblings. My brother Sybok is a son of Sarek from my father’s first marriage, and my sister Michael entered into my parents’ care after her human parents were killed by Klingons.”

“That’s,” Jim said, desperately trying to absorb that much information all at once, “very good to know, Spock.”

Spock titled his head, “May I ask why?”

“What?” Jim asked. He was an experienced and adept Starfleet Captain and somehow Spock managed to render him speechless and confused with a routine game of chess and three sentences about his family.

“Why is that good to know?”

“I guess it helps me understand you better.”

Spock seemed to consider that information for a while, and then he moved his queen and said, “Check.”

Jim had forgotten that his king was in peril.

“Doctor McCoy is of a similar opinion. I believe the two of you would find a discussion of human psychology of mutual interest.”

Spock was still watching the board as Jim moved his king to safety and Jim resigned himself to losing the game. It would be worth it, if Spock had actually decided to take him at his word and start opening up, even just a little.

 

\-- 

 

Everyone was on the bridge. Jim didn’t blame them, the nebula in front of them filled the viewscreen and looked majestic. Spock’s scanners were dutifully formatting data sets sent to the computer, and Spock himself had both his PADDs out to configure the reports as he liked to. One of them beeped quietly.

“Captain,” Spock said,

“Yes Mister Spock,” said Jim.

“Permission to take a twenty-minute recess?” Spock asked. Jim looked away from the breathtaking nebula and Spock continued just slightly more softly, “Doctor McCoy is on the comm.”

“Of course, Mister Spock. Mister Chekov, take over,” Jim said, and Spock walked calmly off the bridge. Jim chanced a glance behind him as the doors were closing, no longer bothering to hide his smile. He caught Uhura and Rand with similar expressions on their faces. Scotty opened his mouth as if to say something but Sulu broke in.

“Nobody say anything, we don’t want to jinx it.”


End file.
